


hashtag romancedorkidnapped

by Kiranokira



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 06:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiranokira/pseuds/Kiranokira
Summary: Seung-gil usually prepares for Valentine’s Day in the following ways:1) He spends six minutes online ordering chocolate for Phichit.2) He waits for it to be Valentine’s Day.This is how it goes until he's made aware that that isn'tnearlyenough.





	hashtag romancedorkidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> I missed writing these two. ♡

Seung-gil usually prepares for Valentine’s Day in the following ways:

1) He spends six minutes online ordering chocolate for Phichit.  
2) He waits for it to be Valentine’s Day.

In the three years they’ve been together, this approach has been more than sufficient. Seung-gil likes the simplicity of it, and Phichit likes the social currency he earns from posting photos of his annual expensive chocolate gift (surrounded by props like lit candles or holographic confetti or the Hamtaro plush Seung-gil gave him before they started dating officially).

It’s easy and effective and it makes them both happy.

So of course Hae-il dispenses his unwanted opinion and ruins it.

“That’s _all_ you do for him? Chocolate?”

Seung-gil pretends not to hear. It’s a pretty new trick he’s trying out but it’s proved extremely effective because Hae-il has both a short attention span _and_ a very interesting and handsome husband who will tempt Hae-il away from his lifelong pursuit of annoying his family members if enough time passes.

Unfortunately, “extremely effective” doesn’t mean “always effective.”

While Seung-gil makes a production out of reorganizing the contents of his fridge, Hae-il hops up onto the back of Seung-gil’s sofa and tips his head to one side with infuriating serenity for someone with electric blue hair who hasn’t yet removed the temporary vine tattoo from around his neck—embellishments he received for a photoshoot _over a week ago_.

“Phichit rented a jet plane for you last year,” Hae-il says.

“He took me to the airport observation deck in Bangkok to watch the planes land at sunset,” Seung-gil corrects.

“Close enough.”

Seung-gil wonders why he doesn’t protest his older brother’s presence in his apartment more stringently. Yes, he gave keys to all of his family members, but that wasn’t tacit permission to _use_ them.

“Y’know what I got Yo-han?”

Seung-gil doesn’t, and bonus: he doesn’t want to know. Hae-il and his husband Yo-han have their own hashtag that crops up every Valentine’s Day, and whatever ostentatious nonsense Hae-il does for Yo-han inevitably ends up trending globally, and then Seung-gil has to listen to Phichit laughing and reading aloud tweets like, “Who the eff is this perfect couple Y’ALL SPILL,” and, “omg is this the guy from the kdrama with the bananas?!?!!!”

On a good day, Seung-gil occupies the mental space he’s allotted to Hae-il by wishing Hae-il were employed somewhere discreet and uninteresting. Of course, the man would probably still live some stupidly charmed existence, getting stopped every other day by lovestruck talent agents on the street or something, but at least he wouldn’t have literal millions of adoring followers spreading global lies about how devoted and lovely and earnest a husband Lee Hae-il is. He’s an annoying nuisance and that is the end of it.

“I got him a yacht,” Hae-il says brightly, heedless of the dark clouds shooting tiny thunderbolts around Seung-gil’s head. “I named it after his first dog, Pet, who lived until about fifteen or so. I think he’ll cry at first, but I know he’ll like it. He’s been talking about exploring the ocean for _months_ ever since he filmed that movie about the shark mermaid, and there’s a really spacious bedroom in the lower deck, so as far as Valentine’s Day goes—”

“Why are you in my apartment?”

Hae-il doesn’t even use a new breath. He just switches tracks smoothly to, “Because I need a spatula to make Yo-han heart pancakes for breakfast and you’ve been making me wait here for the last fifteen minutes, so I thought I’d try to make conversation until you get bored of ignoring me.”

Seung-gil pauses with his hand on an eggplant, searching his memory until, ah. Right. There was mention of a spatula. In between asking what Seung-gil’s plans for Valentine’s Day are and complaining about the speed of the elevator.

Seung-gil promptly gives his older brother the cooking implement he wants and only has to wait another twenty minutes for the man to actually leave.

…And if the apartment feels a little lonelier without his noise, Seung-gil’s taking that observation to his grave.

He’s also left him with the uncomfortable thought:

_Am I really not doing enough?_

•

Phichit’s scheduled to fly into Incheon on February 13th, and he’s already hinted multiple times publicly and privately that he’s bringing something for Seung-gil that he bought in Switzerland while he and Christophe were having their mountain adventure shortly after the GPF.

There’s a hashtag for that, too. (Everyone but Seung-gil gets a hashtag, apparently.)

If Seung-gil were new to this relationship, he might be lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that Phichit can carry his gift on the plane. He would assume, maybe, that Phichit is bringing some fancy Swiss chocolate or maybe a little wooden shoe or a glass paper weight or whatever it is that Switzerland is famous for apart from Christophe Giacometti’s glutes.

He is not new, however, and he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a ticket to someplace thoughtful and memorable in Switzerland and _huh_ , Phichit is also way better at this than he is. Why has it taken him three years to realize this?

Fueled by the same competitive spirit that won him an Olympic medal and a bake-off against Leo de la Iglesia, Seung-gil sets to work planning A Thing for Valentine’s Day.

•

He doesn’t pick up Phichit from the airport. Instead, he has a driver meet him. He answers Phichit’s puzzled messages with a minimum amount of details and follows the odd “I SAW PHICHIT” post from fans on social media to get updates on how things are proceeding along the way.

When Phichit sends a selfie of himself in the back of the car that Seung-gil hired to escort him to Seung-gil’s location, Seung-gil exhales slowly and congratulates himself on creating a needlessly complicated situation for no reason, just like his idiot brother.

He blows on his tea, alone in a cabin in the mountains, and wonders if he’s doing something romantic or just time-consuming.

He only had a week to figure this whole thing out, after all, and there’s a very strong possibility that the end result won’t justify putting Phichit in a car without explanation for an hour after a long flight from Europe. If it were him, he’d already be annoyed, but Phichit seems to be enjoying the mystery. He’s created the hashtag #romancedorkidnapped so his followers can follow along from home.

Nerves build as the minutes pass, and Seung-gil’s on the brink of canceling everything when he sees headlights spear through the pitch black forest and shine off the freshly fallen blanket of snow outside the cabin. Snowflakes swirl wherever the light strays, and Seung-gil realizes the stupid unnecessary moment has arrived.

Seung-gil curses and puts his half-full cup of tea aside. He shoves his arms into his jacket, lopes down the cabin steps two at a time, and snags his skates from beside the as-yet empty fireplace. By the time he’s turned off all the lights and bolted through the back door, a car door is slamming shut on the other side of the house and Phichit is exclaiming, “This is _amazing!_ ” and then, “Thank you!” presumably to the driver.

Seung-gil is panting by the time he’s in his skates and standing out in the center of the ice.

But Phichit doesn’t show.

After several seconds, Seung-gil hears the car engine start up again and watches as the headlights swing around the empty slopes around the cabin before heading back into the woods, and still there’s no Phichit.

A wild part of Seung-gil wonders if Phichit took the lack of reception as an indication that he was at the wrong cabin and left.

Then he wonders if Phichit is just exploring the cabin trying to find him.

Oh. Shit.

Right.

The note Seung-gil left on the back door telling Phichit to come outside won’t be easy to see if the lights are out.

Why did he even turn them off?

Maybe he can send a message to—

Right. Maybe he could.

If he hadn’t left his phone upstairs on the window seat.

This is, unequivocally, _all Hae-il’s fault_.

Seung-gil sighs, but as he’s resigning himself to shouting Phichit’s name or just throwing a snowball at the cabin to get his attention, the back door opens and Phichit finally walks out with his phone up.

Oh.

Of course.

Of course he’s recording everything. Right. _Right._

Damn it.

That’s not _enormous_ pressure or anything.

Seung-gil wants to feel wronged, but he knew who Phichit was when he shoved this minecart into motion, so he just sighs and blames Hae-il some more.

From this distance, Phichit’s just a familiar shape, so Seung-gil can’t be sure yet whether Phichit’s just mildly amused by the lengths Seung-gil’s gone to be better than average this year or if he’s truly impressed.

Not that there’s much to be impressed by. It’s just a frozen pond in rural South Korea outfitted with gold LED lights circling the stone wall around it and a blanket set off to the side for stargazing later after they’ve skated.

It’s barely Instagram-worthy compared to what Phichit normally posts. They already do this sometimes in Hokkaido (which is maybe where he got the idea). This isn’t that special.

But it’s better than _just_ the expensive chocolate purchased online waiting in the picnic basket next to the fireplace.

Seung-gil very firmly doesn’t squirm as Phichit approaches the pond, his narrating voice getting closer and the words themselves becoming more distinguishable.

“—we finally see the organizer himself. I think we can safely assume I haven’t been kidnapped, everyone. Hashtag #romancednotkidnapped.”

Seung-gil realizes this is a cue for him to do something for the camera, but he’s 100% occupied trying to read Phichit’s tone. He’s amused, but is he amused in a good way? The smile is fond, but that has meant _many_ things in three years.

He's a little relieved when Phichit slips a tiny tripod from his pocket and within seconds has set his phone up on the stone wall, freeing his hands to hold up his skates with a wider smile.

“Got your note inside!” he calls.

Seung-gil says, “Good,” feels kind of inadequate for going with that as a response, then gestures impatiently for Phichit to put the skates on already.

Phichit laughs and turns the camera to himself while he sits ass-first in the snow and continues some certainly riveting commentary for the world as he laces up.

Seung-gil shifts his weight, peers up at the stars, and wonders what exactly he was thinking when he decided this was an idea worth pursuing. He knew Phichit would film this. Well. Suspected. This is the same man who spends ages setting up lighting and backgrounds for photos of everything Seung-gil gives him—from actual gifts to odd little mementoes Seung-gil doesn’t always see the value in keeping.

The image of Yo-han’s yacht surfaces in Seung-gil’s mind even though he’s never seen it and has been avoiding certain areas of social media all day so he _doesn’t_ see it.

It still sends molten affection through Seung-gil’s chest when Phichit joins him in the center of the ice after a few long glides, his smile electric. He extends both hands just in time for Seung-gil to expect the grip around his wrists. He allows Phichit to spin the two of them in a wide arc, returning the smile despite the audience of thousands he knows is watching them.

The spin ends gracefully enough, with Phichit laughing and Seung-gil ultra-conscious of the camera and the potential judgment waiting beyond it. Normally he doesn’t care when Phichit shows off to the world, but normally he isn’t on a limb trying something new and untested like this.

Loud enough for the camera to pick up, Phichit asks, “What’s all this for?” with exaggerated flair.

Seung-gil doesn’t react outwardly, but he does roll his eyes in his soul, and Phichit picks up on it with a low, fond laugh.

“Okay, okay.” He leans close and presses his mouth to Seung-gil’s forehead, dry and cold from the wintry night air. He whispers, “Hang on,” and waits patiently for Seung-gil to answer with a nod.

He skates back to his phone, says a few quiet words into the camera, and then makes a physically loud show of putting the tripod and phone away into his jacket pockets. Then he winks and makes his way slowly back to where Seung-gil is blinking and reassessing how he feels about all of this now that it’s truly just the two of them.

He’s ready to catch Phichit when he swings close enough, and his body isn’t as tense when Phichit loops one arm over Seung-gil’s shoulder and the other around his back, hooking his hands in the middle and squeezing the two of them tight together.

“What’s all this for, really?”

Objectively, this is probably pretty romantic. Falling snow, twinkling stars, the slice of blades on ice…but Seung-gil doesn’t really notice the difference in how he feels now versus how he feels when Phichit is just helping him stretch before they practice or when they’re circling the park near Seung-gil’s apartment with Sunja straining on her leash.

He says honestly, “I don’t know, but I hope you like it.”

Phichit’s smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and the next kiss is longer and sweeter and Seung-gil assumes he did something right.

(This, Seung-gil decides, is _in spite of Hae-il_ , not thanks to him.)

•

Later, it turns out Seung-gil was correct about Phichit’s gift.

He booked them tickets to Switzerland for Seung-gil’s birthday in June to visit Lausanne’s very first husky café.

Hae-il declares Phichit the winner of Valentine’s Day on Twitter to vast public approval, and while Seung-gil concedes the victory with grace, his competitive spirit tells him, _Next year._

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hadakanomind)


End file.
